


Painful Nostalgia

by battoff



Series: If I [Come Out], It’s On My Own Terms [3]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Disabled Character, Disabled Jake Dillinger, Gen, Trans Jake Dillinger, and Jeremy is mentioned quite a bit but he actually doesnt have a speaking role in this one, the others and meremine are mentioned for a hot minute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 13:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12632091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/battoff/pseuds/battoff
Summary: The one where Michael protect, he bring snack, but most importantly, he has your back.Alternatively titledThe Token Period Fic





	Painful Nostalgia

**Author's Note:**

> **Me, banging pots and pans together:** Let Hispanic characters bond over Hispanic things. Headcanon characters as Hispanic. Please I’m begging you. 
> 
> In other news, there’s a serious lack of headcanoning the popular kids as anything other than white and I want y’all to know my Jake is always Hispanic, trans, and disabled. Also, writing this made me hungry and I based Jake’s experiences on mine **b _yE_** —

The pain settles low in the small of his back, spreading to his hips and thighs which already hurt enough. His knees feel too knobby and his ribs feel like they’re about to explode from his torso.

Jake has been told he exaggerates too much but he doesn’t care. Not when everything else hurts except what should. He groans, turning over every other minute to find a comfortable position. He knows he won’t. The pain never lets him. Always crawls up his thighs, making old scars shout out, sits in his hips and joints, has his vertebrae feel like it’s swelling up, and finally makes itself home in his ribs. The entire process usually makes him immobile for the first several days. He skips school now, getting a note from his physiotherapist who proves that his pain isn’t something he can get past just to be in a building for six hours a day.

He’s decided to make his refuge in the Heere household. Jeremy gets him some snacks and pain meds before heading off to school. Now he’s all alone with nothing to do because his pain is too distracting and he’s not a big religion person but this is definitely the devil’s curse.

He thinks that this time of the month is definitely worse than it was before Halloween junior year. It used to be that he was sore but there were no cramps to be heard of. The only bad thing was the cravings. He had to be eating almost constantly which hurt his wallet so much. Now, though, the pain is so overwhelming. He can barely get ready for school as is. Add the distress his body’s under and he can’t move without risking an entire week of being in bed.

His hips are the worst, too. Uncomfortable and so obviously _there_ that Jake can’t ignore them. No position can soothe his joints, make them feel cohesive.

He falls back asleep sometime around eleven o’clock. A door slamming wakes him up. “Honey, I’m home!” Thoughts go off rapid fire in his head.

It’s Monday. Michael always comes over on Mondays to hang out with Jeremy or, at the very least, chill in his house. Jeremy isn’t here, opting to go on a date with Christine. This was decided last Friday which Michael took in stride. Everyone complimented him in the subtlest ways possible. He was beaming for the rest of their lunch period. And that decision just means Michael’s going to be in the house, too. That’s fine. Jake doesn’t mind sharing.

Jeremy’s bedroom door opens with a slight creak. “Jake?”

“Oh.” He wasn’t expecting that.

Michael’s head peeks out from behind the door. A smile sits on his face like a mask. His hood is up, headphones around his neck, fingers twitching around a tupperware container. “I brought sancocho. Mami—my mom, she made it. I tried to tell her you were sick to get her to make it with chicken but she, uh, sorry, she made it with beef? Instead. Yeah,” he trails off.

“She made me sancocho?”

“Yeah. Is that weird? Sorry. I just— Jeremy said you were having a bad pain day and I thought— well, Hispanics like sancocho when they need to feel better, right? I mean, not all of us do but I thought maybe you’d like some.”

Jake’s chest feels warm, throat tightening like he’s about to cry. He hasn’t had traditional Hispanic food since his parents started leaving him in middle school. “I’d really like that. Thanks so much Mikey.” Michael seems relieved by his response. “Bring your butt over here, I’m starved.”

“Starving,” he corrects but moves to sit down on the bed anyways.

“Gosh, sorry. Just wanted to sound fancy.” Jake takes the spoon from Michael. “Jeremy is gonna kill us when he finds out we’re eating soup on his bed.”

“Well, _we’re_ not eating soup.”

The betrayal is clear on Jake’s face. “ _Mikey_ —”

“Also what Jeremy doesn’t know won’t kill him.” They laugh, nearly shitting themselves when the bowl almost tips over during their fit. “Buen provecho,” Michael says and it reminds Jake of better times.

“Gracias. Igual.” That earns him a bright grin from Michael as he takes a sip from the bowl. It takes him back. Back to the good years when his parents actually gave a shit about him. Back to when he didn’t see the need to skip meals near constantly. It creates a pleasant warmth in his gut but at the same time he can’t help but— “God, your mom is a much better cook than mine.”

Michael snorts something attractive. “She’ll be happy to hear that.”

“Yeah? I’m glad. She’s made a very happy guy out of period me.” He waits for a reaction. All he gets is Michael wheezing for a concerningly long time. He sets the bowl on Jeremy’s nightstand to make sure it doesn’t spill with all the movement going on. “Mikey, you good?”

All he gets is another breathless laugh as Michael squeezes out a “Homestuck!” as his only answer. Jake’s ears burn with shame not just because Michael made the reference but also since he actually understood it, too.

“Shut up!”

**Author's Note:**

> Sancocho is a traditional soup from Latin America and, depending on which Hispanic country you’re from, the meat used in it is different. For example, I’m Puerto Rican (as is Jake in my works) and the sancocho I usually have is made with chicken or patitas (pig’s feet) or both whereas in Ecuador, correct me if I’m wrong, they use beef. There’s almost always corn in it, too. So that’s why Michael apologizes to Jake. He knows that the way they experience sancocho is different since he’s part Ecuadorian and Jake’s Puerto Rican. But, man, sancocho is sancocho. Jake ain’t picky. 
> 
> Also, I dunno about y’all but I call my mom _Mami_ so I’m making Jake and Michael call their moms that, too. Michael calls his other mom _Nanay_ in case y’all were wondering. ~~His Ecuadorian mom is trans.~~
> 
> **Buen provecho** means _bon appetit_ or _enjoy your meal_ and I’m used to saying it to anyone who’s about to eat. 
> 
> **Gracias. Igual.** is the way you’re supposed to respond to someone saying buen provecho and it basically means _thanks. You enjoy your meal, too._ The igual is skipped out on if the person doesn’t have food but, like, have you ever said “thanks. You, too” to a waiter? Yeah… 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Note: If you don’t think these two wouldn’t be filthy homestucks during middle school, then you can catch me throwing hands.~~


End file.
